


"He's Ready For You"

by thepalewalker



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: #Joker is Batsexual, #Joker is aware of all jokers, #also he dead, #internalcontemplations, #plot twist ish, #short ditty, #so, #unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 03:00:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16568351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepalewalker/pseuds/thepalewalker
Summary: The Joker was many things. He seemed to remember a thousand lives at once, a thousand stories that wove into one tapestry of madness. He knew, he knew, that at one point, the Batman had made him who he was by dropping into the melting pot to be reformed. That was a common thread. There was that one time, he had made the Batman by cutting away the fat with a particularly sharp bullet.All of these things were true, and yet none of them.





	"He's Ready For You"

The Joker was many things. He seemed to remember a thousand lives at once, a thousand stories that wove into one tapestry of madness. He knew, he knew, that at one point, the Batman had made him who he was by dropping into the melting pot to be reformed. That was a common thread. There was also that one time when he had made the Batman by cutting away the fat with a particularly sharp bullet.

Sometimes, bullets flashed in his memory and the blood of his brothers in arms spilled out over his hands. Others, a father took a knife to his face. Still others, his brother took a lie to his mother, so he took a knife to her afterwards.

All of these things were true, and yet none of them. Once so many separate elements are thrown together, they become something entirely new, something entirely inseparable. You’d never say that you could confine the entire being of a cake to one of the eggs that made it up.

That’d be crazy.

In this particular moment, however, he had scars across his face. Like a smile, not around the borders. He had scars everywhere else as well, down his arms and thighs, a few old wounds as well. He was always down for danger, wasn’t he?

He painted on his makeup with just a normal paintbrush, reapplying his face as he did so religiously. 

And he thought of Batman.

Whether he made him, or him made he, it didn’t really matter. It’d always been Batman and Joker. Bat and Clown. The Knight and the Jester. Two sides of a-… but the point was made. 

He felt sweat cling to his skin. The lights hummed like a hive of wasps trapped in glass. The air brushed against the wet paint. The black leaked into his eyes as he ran the bristles over his eyelid, and he blinked to drive away the sensation of blindness.

It had been a while since he showed up, hadn’t it? He felt a great emptiness in this time, like he shouldn’t have been there for something, but something had stopped him from that something.

What had happened to him?

Was it an armful that just turned out too much for him? 

Any street thug that had it out for him?

Had it been the Batman? He hoped so, but he doubted it.

He’d been applying his makeup for a long while. But, it seemed to drip off the instant he put it on. He needed to look nice if he was going out to meet Batsy again. He was going to see Batsy again, wasn’t he?

A brush, a brush. This makeup was so watery, he needed to get some better stuff.

He felt naked like this, his scars uncovered like sharing his darkest secrets. He hated seeing his own skin in the mirror, because it forced him to remember something. He was forced to remember that the Joker, no matter how much he puffed himself up in life, was only a man after death. That he was only mortal. Try as hard as he might to immortalize his message, turn himself into something more, he would never know if he succeeded.

Then, suddenly, the door behind him opened, and he turned for the visit he’d been expecting forever.

“He’s ready for you again.”

The Joker was lead by a person he couldn’t quite catch the features of down a long, long hallway. The end door always seemed to be jumping to different distances, but eventually, he managed to lay a hold of the doorknob and plunged into the infinite white that lay behind it.

He fell, was torn apart and remade, before settling into a new form and dropped once more into reality.

He blinked at the light of new life, sitting up and-

Did… Were those tattoos? He licked his teeth, feeling the cold grooves across the front of them. Did he have... grills?

.

.

.

Something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.


End file.
